


Major Cases

by inelegantly (Lir)



Series: SASO 2015 Fills [12]
Category: Law & Order, Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Assistant District Attorney Honoka, Case Fic, Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2015, F/F, I swear you don't need to know Law & Order to read this fic, Junior Detective Kotori, Law & Order AU, Police Captain Nico, Police Detective Umi, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 03:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4332402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lir/pseuds/inelegantly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Umi has been working the police force's major case squad for just under six months — her junior partner, Kotori, has been working major cases even less than that. Their investigation of a string of art thefts brings wealthy socialite Eli into the station, expressing worries about her own pieces displayed in one of the galleries hit, and offering to provide any assistance she's able in aiding the investigation. It's a major case — all of the cases they work are, it's right in the name — but nothing career-making. It shouldn't be career-breaking, either, until Umi starts to suspect there's something she's missed, something that may result in disaster not just for herself, but for her captain and for the district attorney's office as well, if she cannot correct it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Major Cases

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the second bonus round of the 2015 [Sports Anime Shipping Olympics](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org), where the theme of the round is AUs. The prompt I am working from was, "LAW AND ORDER AU where Eli is a notorious cat burglar and Umi is a cop trying to catch her. Also, state's attorney Honoka."
> 
> It is relevant to note that I have watched every single episode from all 20 seasons of the original Law and Order at least once. I've watched every episode in the first 15 seasons of SVU. I love crime dramas to such an excessive degree and may have drawn inspiration from a few others in the process of writing this (which got well out of hand for a SASO fic). In my heart, Umi has a little of Olivia Benson in her, and Honoka has the lawyering skills of Elsbeth Tascioni of The Good Wife fame, while probably working under Jack McCoy in the district attorney's office.
> 
> A knowledge of Law and Order is not really required to read this fic; to my knowledge the use of jargon is minimal and it isn't designed to fit directly into Law and Order canon. If a story about cops chasing a criminal appeals to you, then you're probably set.

-

"A-Ah, there's someone in to see you," Kotori says, as Umi steps into the squad room. Her hand is tilted by her face and she bends over a little, leaning closer to her partner. "And the captain wants to speak with you." 

"I've only been here not—" Umi lifts her wrist, glancing quickly at her watch. "—two minutes, is so much really going on already?" 

"It's a major case," Kotori reminds her. "The art theft." 

"Ah. Right," Umi says. 

_Everything_ they do is a major case, in their division. It's right in the name — major case squad. Umi has been in the unit almost six months now, and though her last partner was a bit of a foul-mouthed jerk, he'd had clever ideas, and was always willing to work late. Kotori, on the other hand... 

Umi may have been in the academy with Kotori, but she isn't so certain that the promotion to detective is one the other girl's skills should have earned. 

"Which do I do first," she asks, too frazzled by having a choice sprung on her the instant she walks through the door to make the decision immediately (though she's more thinking aloud, when Kotori is her junior partner and she isn't yet ready to trust Kotori's judgment without the addition of her own assessment). "Talk to the captain, or see whoever is here about the case? Have they been spoken to? Offered anything — coffee, a snack from the vending machine? Where did I put my case notes... Ah, see if you can stall them." 

"Right away, Umi-chan!" Kotori says, snapping to attention and giving Umi a smart little salute. 

"I'm not your superior officer," Umi reminds her, voice a little tight with the exasperation she's holding back, but even all the same. "You don't have to salute to me." 

"Of course, Umi-chan!" Kotori says.

She doesn't salute, but the rigidness of her posture makes it feel like she may as well have done so.

"While you're doing that," Umi says, just to make sure she and Kotori are on the same page, "I'll be in to see the captain." 

She pushes aside her worries over leaving Kotori to deal with their guest — Kotori was a serviceable beat cop and absolutely indispensable behind a desk, it's only dealing with _people_ that gets her caught up — and walks toward the back of the squad room. Upon reaching her captain's door she draws up short, squaring her shoulders and bracing herself for whatever meeting awaits her.

Goodness, but she longed for the days when coming into the precinct meant having five consecutive minutes to grab a cup of the absolutely foul coffee their squad brewed, to look over her notes from the shift before, and to mentally prepare herself before starting the day. Umi likes to think she is a good officer, but all the shake-ups in the major case squad have her sense of order scattered to the four winds.

With a deep, bracing breath, she reaches for the door handle and pushes her way into her captain's office. 

"Captain Yazawa," Umi says. "You wanted to see me?" 

Nico is seated behind her desk, the chair turned just slightly to the side and her hands poised over the keys of the computer perched on top of it. She glances up when Umi speaks, eyebrows going high before she turns her chair to face forward and slides her shoulders all the way back into it. 

"Sonoda," she says. "There's a woman here about the art theft." 

"Yes," Umi says. "Kotori informed me about that. I'll speak to her right away, but — what is it exactly she's come in to speak with us about?" 

"Nothing important," Nico says loftily, waving her hand once before her eyes slide back toward her computer screen. "She's one of the other collectors whose work is stored in the gallery that got hit. She's whining and hand-wringing about whether her priceless collectables might also get stolen, and oh, what is she to do, what are _we_ doing to prevent that? You know the drill. It's whatever." 

"Ah," Umi says. "I see." 

She's always careful around captain Yazawa, having learned that her blasé attitude about policework was the farthest thing from a reason to underestimate her. Nico might be looking at her computer screen, scanning over whatever it was she was reading before Umi came in, but Nico was sharp. Nico paid attention to things. If she made one little slip-up, Umi knew she could count on Nico hearing about it before the other shoe dropped.

"I just need you to take care of it," Nico says, not looking at Umi. "Make her feel listened to. Find out if she noticed anything weird around the gallery in the days leading up to the theft. Like I said, the usual." 

"Of course," Umi says. "Was that all you needed me for?" 

"Not quite," Nico says. She glances back up from her computer screen, once again focusing the entirety of her attention on Umi. Her smile cracks wide, the sunny, full-dentition one that always means bad news for the criminals her division is after. Right now, Umi worries it might mean bad news _for her._ "The district attorney's office also called. They want to know about our progress with the case." 

"Oh," Umi says. She feels like a marionette, simply hopping in whichever direction Nico has pulled her strings, but this catches her off-guard. "I don't really have more information for them yet, but I suppose that may change, after I've spoken to our... Witness?" 

"It might," Nico says. "It might not. But you've got all of this shift to do something about it either way, because at the end of the day, _you_ are going to meet with the ADA."

"...Me?" Umi says. "Ah, are you sure about that?" 

"Do I look unsure?" Nico asks. She levels Umi with withering look, before turning her head back toward her computer. "That's all. Go take care of the — victim, witness, whichever she is. And then _do_ something about this case. The governor has been talking about another crime crackdown and he's putting the pressure on the district attorney's office to break a big case as a, you know, show of good faith to the people." 

Umi nods, well aware of how that sort of posturing usually goes. It makes her nervous — she does her best in her position, and she _is_ a good officer, but it isn't like she can just solve the ideal case for a publicity stunt on command. Nico's voice drops into a sarcastic drawl toward the end of her explanation, and Umi can feel the weight of the situation descending onto her shoulders just to hear it. 

"I'll do my best with the case," is what she says to Nico, once she's taken a moment to swallow down her nerves.

"Of course you will," Nico says. She clicks once with her mouse. "Because you like your job. Now talk to the woman in the waiting room, I'm sure she's finished her coffee by now." 

"Of course," Umi says. "Right away." 

She gives a little bow — she can't help herself, she's never unlearned that and Nico never truly discouraged her from such formalities — and turns to walk back out of the room. 

When she emerges into the squad room, Kotori is gone. Umi can only assume she's tending to the potential victim turned possible witness, so she turns on her heel, walking down the hall to the precinct's least-intimidating interrogation room, the one often used for questioning assets not believed to be involved in wrongdoing. 

"Ah, hello," Umi says, as she steps into the room. 

Per her expectation, Kotori is seated at the long table inside, along with a lovely blonde woman whose hair is pulled back and tied high atop her head. She's striking enough that Umi pauses a moment to reassess, suddenly far more aware that this is a wealthy member of their city's population — a wealthy individual who believes, not without just cause, that her hard-earned property is in danger and that _Umi_ is falling down on her job to protect it.

Umi swallows tightly, and walks over to the table. She pulls out the chair next to Kotori's and lowers herself down to sit. "I trust my partner has been able to take care of you while I was called away?" she asks. 

"Yes," the woman says. "She did provide me with some coffee—" she glances down at the cardboard cup her hands are primly wrapped around (Umi glances into it, and is unsurprised to see that it's still nearly full) "—and asked me a few preliminary questions, though I was told to wait until a more senior officer could speak with me." 

"Yes," Umi says. "That would be me. I've been instructed that you are one of the collectors who makes use of the gallery where the recent robbery took place?" 

"I am," the woman agrees. "My name is Eli Ayase, and I've been contributing pieces from my personal collection to that gallery's display for five years now. I was always led to believe their security was the best in the business and quite state of the art, but I suppose no system is entirely foolproof." 

"I suppose," Umi agrees, trying to be polite. "Even so, this investigation is high priority with the major case squad, and you can rest assured that we will be doing everything we are able both to apprehend the person responsible and to prevent an incident like this from happening again." 

"Are you?" Eli asks, in a tone of voice that makes Umi shiver almost before she's realized it. 

There's something calculated to Eli's tone, like she doesn't quite believe Umi is qualified to do as she's promised — or like she doesn't yet know, and this is a test to prove Umi's worth. She's very aware that it's foolish to feel such a thing from a rich socialite art collector (she scolds herself internally for dismissing a taxpayer that way, but she can't quite help it), but the feeling lingers all the same. 

"We are," Umi agrees, as firmly as she can manage. "And in the pursuit of these aims, we had a few questions we'd like to ask you." 

"Of course," Eli says, leaning back in the rigid wooden chair. Her back remains quite straight, and her hands perch primly at the edge of the table. Umi can't help thinking that she seems incredibly stately — regal, like a queen. It makes the back of Umi's neck go chill with nerves. "Ask me whatever you need." 

"Did you notice anything," Umi begins, "in the days leading up to the burglary? Anything at all. It may have been something with the patrons, with art being moved around by the gallery, maybe someone spoke to you who usually didn't? Anything out of the ordinary." 

"Hmm," Eli says, humming to herself as she lifts one hand from the table to press the first finger against her mouth. "Now that you mention it... The gallery hired a new art director about a year ago. Nothing out of the ordinary there, and the woman has done marvelous things for publicity and for broadening the scope of the display. She is very talented. But in the past month, she has been moving exhibits around even more than she did at the start of her employment, when she was finding all those new donators for us." 

"That does sound worth noting," Umi says. She glances sideways at Kotori, who had been silent and listening until that moment, and tilts her head once, then again more insistently.

"Oh!" Kotori exclaims softly a moment later. She reaches down to her waist and pulls up a notepad. "Let me jot that down." 

"Thank you," Umi says, before turning back to their witness. "Is that it? Was there anything else out of the ordinary this week?" 

"No," Eli says. "Nothing significant that I could mention. Although... I can never be certain, I admit. There may be some little detail that's just slipping my mind." 

"That's always a worry we have," Umi says, falling back on the routines of questioning. "It's perfectly normal to worry over having forgotten something. But here, I'll give you our card with the number for the precinct, and — you know what, I'll give you my personal work cell, too, so you can reach me as quickly as possible. If you remember anything, anything at all that you think might be of use to us, call right away." 

"Of course," Eli says. 

Umi reaches down, rifling around for her cards and a pen before carefully printing her personal contact number, the one she gives to all of her confidential informants, the one she's given to female victims when they needed to know they had someone to turn to, on the back of the card. She offers it across the table to Eli. 

"There you are," she says. "And like I said, anything at all that you think is important, you call me. We want to catch this person, so nothing is too insignificant." 

"Is this number... Only reachable during work hours?" Eli asks, after a long moment of staring down at the card, turning it over to see the number on the back and then turning it to the front again.

"Oh, no," Umi says. "I try to keep my cell on as much as possible." 

"That's... Good to know," Eli says. 

Umi pauses, glancing up from returning her pen to its proper place before her eyes go wide with the implication she thinks, but isn't certain, she heard underneath Eli's words. She glances sideways at Kotori, but Kotori hasn't reacted; she's simply holding her notepad, looking very attentive and businesslike and being the good backup that Umi needs to know she can rely on. 

"I'll be sure to call," Eli says, and it doesn't sound like she means about the art theft. 

Umi's cheeks feel hot, but she pushes the feeling down. It isn't the first time someone they'd brought into the precinct to be questioned tried to hit on her — it's simply the first time that person wasn't a suspect, and the first time that person happened to be quite so gorgeous as the woman sitting across from Umi at the table. 

She ducks her head without meaning to, so that a chunk of her hair falls out from where it had been tucked behind her ear, and Umi reaches up reflexively to fix it and push it back. It's a nervous gesture — her hand flexes uncertainly as she pulls it away again, and suddenly she feels entirely out of place. 

"I believe that's everything we're able to do here," she says, falling back once again on the comforting reliability of routine. "I'm sure you have a very busy day of your own, so I wouldn't want to keep you any longer than necessary." 

"It hasn't been so bad," Eli says. Her voice is light, like she's trying to make the most of the situation, but the way her eyes glance once toward Kotori, sharp, then slide back to Umi as her lips curl just slightly up into a smile, makes Umi nervous all over again. "You did answer my questions about what the police are doing to... protect my interests, which was the main concern I had in coming here." 

"Of course," Umi says. "Oh! Before you go. If it's possible, could you give me the number of the new art director at the gallery? I'm sure we spoke to her before, but after what you've mentioned, I'd like to be able to do a follow-up. Maybe we can get some new information." 

"Not a problem," Eli says. She reaches into her delicate little handbag, and pulls out her phone. 

She reads the number off while Kotori takes dictation, just the tip of her tongue poking out between her teeth as she carefully prints out what she's told. When she's done, she flips the cover of her notepad closed. 

"Thank you," Umi says. "And now, since I believe that truly is everything, if you'd like for my partner to walk you out of the station?" 

"She's already spent so much of her time on me," Eli says. "I wouldn't want to trouble her further." 

"We really should have someone walk you out," Umi insists. 

"In that case," Eli says. "Why don't you give your poor partner a break. It won't take more than a minute or two for you to accompany me outside, would it?" 

It's an ordinary enough request, and Umi sees no reason to refuse her. But she's had the steadily-growing sense, all throughout the interview, that Eli Ayase has been sizing her up just as much as she's been assessing Eli's ability to give them any answers. She can only guess at what conclusion Eli has reached concerning her, and that uncertainty sends another cool shiver down her spine. 

Eli is incredibly composed, poised, and well-spoken. She's the sort of person Umi never would have spoken to outside of her job, and the kind of person who ordinarily trips all of her cues to slide into proper deference toward an authority. 

She can't quite stop herself from treating Eli that way even now, though she disguises it as simple politeness toward someone who is helping out the police.

"Of course," she finally says, after a pause that she knows is too long. "Kotori, if you'd review the case files while I'm gone, I'll take a moment to escort Mrs. Ayase outside." 

"Miss," Eli says, as she rises from her chair. "I'm not a 'Mrs' yet. You need only call me 'miss.'" 

"Ah, I apologize," Umi says. "If you'd come with me?" 

Nothing out of the ordinary happens at all as she escorts Eli to the outside of the precinct, not even conversation. Eli only makes a few more casual comments as they walk downstairs, then she takes her leave. Nevertheless, Umi's feeling that something is amiss lingers, and she can't help going over and over in her head the course of the interview. 

It was short, but Nico told her to keep it short. Nico told her it was just a formality — a matter of course, something to keep the public happy and avoid causing themselves trouble with pursuing the case, when Eli Ayase is someone visible in the public eye. 

Umi thinks about it the entire way back upstairs, and even Kotori's gentle presence isn't enough to put her back at ease. 

-

Umi doesn't get around to calling the art director until that afternoon, in between the whirlwind of activity comprising an ordinary work day for her and Kotori. She tries once closer to her lunch break, but with no response. An hour before the end of her shift, she gets the woman on the phone. 

"Ms. Toujou?" Umi says, walking to sit down at her desk as she makes it back into the squad room. 

"That would be me," a warm voice, more girlish than Umi is expecting, says in reply. "Is there something I can help you with? Or, hmm, should I guess?" 

"That won't be necessary," Umi tells her. "As I said in my message, I'm officer Umi Sonoda from the major case squad downtown. I'm calling about the theft that happened three days ago in the gallery you work for. This is a routine follow-up." 

"Oh, is it?" Ms. Toujou responds. "In that case, I'll try and be of service however I can." 

"We're to understand that some pieces were moved between exhibits in the week leading up to the burglary," Umi says. "This is only a minor detail, of course, but we were wondering if you could give us insight into why that was done?" 

"Oh, it's nothing unusual. I consult with all of our major contributors on the way we arrange our displays in the gallery, to make sure that everyone is happy with the showcasing of their personal pieces they're being so kind as to give to us on loan. In the week before the theft, I moved several pieces at the request of one of our biggest, long-term contributors." 

"Oh?" Umi says. "Would you be able to give me the name of that person?" 

"Of course," Ms. Toujou says. "I've worked closely with her frequently since taking this position back in March. The person who asked me to move the pieces was Ms. Ayase. Eli Ayase." 

"I see," Umi says, on only a bit of a delay, so that her voice sounds small and distant to her own ears. 

There's a dull rushing building behind them, and a cold trickle makes its way down her spine. She's learned in her line of work that more than anything else, she needs to trust her instincts. Her instincts had been telling her all morning that something was out of place with how Eli went about the interview, though she couldn't place what. 

This isn't concrete confirmation of anything, but Umi feels like her worries are being vindicated all the same.

"Is that helpful?" Ms. Toujou says, when Umi doesn't continue. "She's very personable, and has always been good about working our meetings into her schedule while accommodating the needs of my own work hours. If there's anything you need to ask her, I can give you her number." 

"No," Umi hears herself say. "That won't be necessary. Thank you for your time." 

She has no solid reason to believe that Eli moving pieces around means anything, but Umi is very aware that _Eli_ is the one who told her pieces had been moved, _Eli_ is the one who gave her Ms. Toujou's name. She can't help thinking that she's been given the run-around, and she doesn't want to trouble the art director of an important gallery any more than necessary, if she's not getting new information. 

"You're welcome," Ms. Toujou says in return. "I hope I was a help." 

"You were," Umi says, though she isn't sure about it yet. "Thank you again. Goodbye." 

She sets her phone down, leaning back in her desk chair to run the facts again through her head. If pieces were moved... Everything stolen was from a very specific installation in the gallery, in its own room isolated from the rest. Umi has written down everything that was taken, she should cross-reference those items against whichever items were moved, and—

"Sonoda!" she hears called through the open door to captain Yazawa's office. 

"Yes captain!" Umi calls back, immediately pushing herself up from the desk and cutting off all other worrying. 

She walks to the door in time to catch Nico stepping out of it, pausing a few steps back so she isn't towering over her boss. Nico's expression is pulled down in a frown, and she's yanking her heavy outer coat on as she moves. 

"The district attorney's office just called," she says. "As did the governor. You need to get down there immediately, ADA Kousaka is waiting for you." 

"Of course," Umi says. "I'll do that immediately." 

"Good," Nico says, her voice sharper than usual, done away with the false warmth that means she's getting things done. Whatever is going on, it must not be good. "I have a meeting to get to, and it's going to be hell. Don't be late. Tell the DA to call me in the morning. Ugh, this is a mess." 

Nico rushes the rest of the way out of the squad room without waiting for further confirmation from Umi. For a long moment, Umi stands there, processing the fact that her work day is about to be over — she'll see the ADA and that's the end of it. She only hopes that the DA isn't full of unreasonable demands. 

-

"I'm sorry I'm late," Umi says, as she steps into the office of the district attorney.

He isn't there, but Honoka Kousaka is, and that's just as much as Umi feels capable of handling, after the vaguely unsettling and unexpectedly tiring day she's had. 

"It's fine, it's fine," Honoka says, waving both hands like it really is nothing. "Come in, sit down, we'll get this taken care of in no time! I just have a few messages to pass along to you, before we move forward with this case."

"Move forward?" Umi asks, taking a few steps further into the room and moving to take the seat she assumes Honoka is indicating for her. 

She's dealt with the assistant district attorney a few times before, and all of those experiences were incredibly confusing to her. She's seen Honoka Kousaka in court and she's a whirlwind, doggedly pursuing witnesses and leaving them no place to turn in providing the testimony _she_ wants, while also being incredibly gentle with her own witnesses, walking them through the answers that she knows they are able to give. 

But outside of court, Honoka comes off as a bit of a scatterbrained mess, and it's always incredibly frustrating for Umi to sort through the things Honoka tells her without losing her head. 

"Yes," Honoka says. "The DA believes this theft is the work of a criminal already involved in a different proceeding, didn't your captain tell you? We need to work fast if we want to consolidate the charges." 

"Consolidate... the..." Umi repeats, taking a moment to process. "You mean you want to take someone to court immediately?" 

"Well, not immediately," Honoka says, laughing as if that's a funny joke. Umi's expression is still horror-stricken at the very idea of that time table. "But yes, very soon. We need everything you've got as soon as possible so we can tighten our case." 

"Everything... We haven't got everything!" Umi exclaims. "We have almost nothing at all, we didn't think we even had a suspect! Or, I didn't think we did, it is beginning to sound as if there has been a serious breakdown in communication between me and my captain." 

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, Umi regrets them — what if Honoka repeats it, what if her disrespect gets back to Nico? She's berating herself internally for not watching her tongue when Honoka speaks up again. 

"Well, of course you do," Honoka says. "Captain Yazawa just told me that you questioned the suspect we've been slowly moving on for months. Just this morning, if I recall correctly?" 

That dull rushing is again building behind Umi's ears, like the feeling of air blowing past her at an incredible rate, like the feeling of falling with the ground yanked right out from under her. She questioned the suspect that morning. After the flippant pep-talk Nico gave her, she questioned a suspect without knowing she was a suspect. Eli Ayase is the person the DA's office is considering for the string of art thefts. 

"Of course," Umi says, unable to come up with anything else. 

In her pocket, she can feel her work phone beginning to buzz. 

"So, like I said," Honoka repeats, head tilting and eyes narrowing just slightly, as if Umi has begun to act strangely. "We need all your notes about the gallery, interviews with witnesses, it's the usual business and we've both been here before! But we need it tomorrow. Everything. We need to know that we have a case, because the suspect here is very wealthy, very influential, and if we cannot convince a judge that she is to be held without bail, she is very much a flight risk." 

"Of course," Umi says again. 

Her thoughts are coming too sluggishly to entirely keep up. Wealthy. Influential. A flight risk. Umi has seen Eli in the papers before, by name at least even if she hadn't recognized the woman's face first thing when she saw her in the interrogation room. She's a philanthropist. A community leader. Umi can feel her heart speeding up in her chest, and can feel her phone continuing to vibrate against her leg. 

"I'll be certain to do that," Umi adds. 

"In that case!" Honoka says. "We're all wrapped up here. I'll see you — first thing in the morning? How does nine-thirty sound?" 

"Nine-thirty is fine," Umi says, without even thinking about it. "I'll collect the case file, and follow up on a few things if I have the time." 

"This should go without saying," Honoka says, in that way she always does, telling Umi things she already knows and which feel like overstepping the bounds of an assistant to the district attorney. "But don't contact the suspect again, we don't want her tipped off about the rate at which the investigation is moving." 

"Right," Umi says. "Tomorrow, then?" 

"Tomorrow," Honoka agrees. 

As Umi steps out of ADA Kousaka's office, her phone — momentarily still and silent for that last minute in the office — again begins to buzz. Reflexively, stiffly, Umi pulls it out of her pocket. She doesn't recognize the number. She slides her finger across the screen to answer it anyway.

"Hello," Umi says into the receiver. 

"Hello, detective Sonoda," a warm, familiar voice says back. "Or can I call you Umi? I was thinking, coffee sounds nice. Or, as late as it is, maybe drinks? You did say I could call." 

She says it as if this is perfectly ordinary, asking an officer of the law out for drinks, or coffee. Umi supposes it might be, if she hadn't met Eli on the job. She supposes other people must field requests like this on occasion — but she never has, always too busy with school, with the academy, with work, never making time for dating and never really letting anyone get close enough to proposition her.

Umi doesn't know how she would respond to the situation if it were an ordinary request for a date. Let alone a request from the grand larceny suspect she isn't meant to be speaking to. 

"I don't think I can do that," Umi says stiffly into the phone. 

"Oh, don't tease," Eli jokes in response. "I might not have very much time for outings like this, you know." She leaves a little pause, just long enough to become weighty, significant. "I have a very busy schedule, after all. My work may be taking me out of the country in the near future." 

Umi swallows, all of her nerves from the morning returning in the worst way and nearly paralyzing her just outside the building. She feels criminal, knowing who she's speaking to, knowing whose office she has just been inside. Everything has pulled tight inside her chest and it's becoming difficult, drawing the necessary air into her seized-up lungs. 

"I'm not teasing," Umi says. "My work keeps me very busy as well." 

She remembers, out of nowhere, the way Eli's mouth had smiled that morning during the interview — only the subtlest curl of very pink lips, slow and secretive like the sentiment was reserved only for Umi. She remembers how blue and clear Eli's eyes were, how lovely her delicate, high-cheekboned face. Umi remembers that Eli Ayase is one of the most gorgeous people she's ever spoken to in person in her life, and is very, very aware that this person — beautiful, successful, incredibly wealthy (almost definitely a criminal) is asking for her to go on a date. 

"I could make it easy for you," Eli says. "If you'd prefer, I could come by your apartment instead. We could drink tea. Talk about our dreams for the future together." 

It sounds incredibly romantic, cozy, more intimate than anything Umi has ever done in her life. It sounds far, far too familiar for a woman who only just met her that morning. Umi is very aware that in some sense, she's being played — but if Eli already has the information about her impending arrest (and from the phrasing of her invitation, Umi is certain that she does) she can't begin to think what Eli wishes to get out of her. 

She's also very aware that, from the phrasing of this second offer, Eli must already know where she lives. 

She tells herself, very firmly, that the perpetrator behind the string of art thefts has never been shown to be violent. That person was always calm, efficient, the epitome of a cat burglar — in and out fast and clean with no wasted time and no tip-off of the alarms in all the incidents save one. If nothing else, she shouldn't be in any physical danger, having a likely felon drop by her house.

She suddenly _becomes_ aware that her thought process sounds insane. 

"I'm not sure," is what she hears herself say. "It isn't a good idea." 

But she doesn't know how to salvage her job — if this is her fault, if something she said, either to Eli herself or to Ms. Toujou on the phone, was the thing to tip Eli off and she _does_ flee the country, Umi cannot think of anything she could have done differently. She can't think of anything she can do now to stop Eli from taking whatever actions it is she has planned. She can't, except... Maybe... 

"Please?" Eli says, sounding so genuinely entreating. 

"I suppose it might not hurt," Umi says. "But I want you to know, I agreed to this with great reluctance. I have work early in the morning, and the precinct is being kept very busy with — well, you won't want to know about that. I shouldn't talk about that. But that is to say, my day has been quite stressful, and I could use the chance to relax." 

"I find a warm mug of tea and companionable conversation to be very relaxing," Eli says. 

Umi takes a deep breath, tense all over before she makes herself speak, "That's exactly what I was hoping for. I'll see you at — when did you want to visit? I'm out right now, and I'll still need to drive home." 

"Well," Eli says. "If it's quarter of nine now, and it'll take you... How long to drive home?" 

"Fifteen minutes," Umi says, "give or take." 

"Fifteen minutes to drive home," Eli repeats. "Hmm, how about nine-thirty? That gives you a little time to get in, wind down, change if you like. And then we can have our little tea together." 

"Nine-thirty is fine," Umi says. "I'll see you then." 

"Of course!" Eli says, voice lifting with delight. "Until later." 

"Until later," Umi repeats, dutifully. "Goodbye, Eli." 

She hangs up her phone, and exhales the longest breath out her nose before her knees tremble and nearly give and all the tension bound up in her catches up to her nerves at once. She has to lean on the outside of the building, just to keep herself from stumbling to the ground.

An infamous cat burglar (socialite, her brain tells her, paragon of society, philanthropist, wealthy taxpayer, natural beauty) is coming to her house. For tea. And good conversation. Umi is about to host the suspect the DA's office is fighting tirelessly to tack down securely enough that she stays in jail, no bail for her to easily throw money at, no chance of her slipping through their fingers and fleeing the country.

Umi needs to make sure that Eli doesn't flee anywhere. Umi has a plan. It's just convincing one gorgeous, high society lady to stay in the city for the privilege of her company alone — how hard can it be? 

Umi walks slowly to her car, thinking about her resume and whether she might be able to transfer to a new line of work, once the chips are all thrown down. 

-

-


End file.
